


Sick Day

by orphan_account



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, hisoka being annoying, sick reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tumblr Request"Heyyy I was wondering if I could request a Hisoka one shot of him taking care of a sick reader? I got rlly sick tdy n it’s all I been thinking bout lmao (Also if the pronouns could be neutral that would mean a lot to me🥺) Ty!!!!"
Relationships: Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 114





	Sick Day

_ ‘The flu is something that should have never come into existence _ ’ you think as you lay shivering and aching in a pile of blankets. 

You couldn’t breathe out of your nose or taste anything, opening your eyes is a pain to do since your eyelids felt like weights. You couldn’t get warm enough, yet you had sweat against the back of your neck. It hurt your entire body to adjust the blankets to encompass your body more, so you settled for whatever cocoon you built two hours ago. 

Hisoka’s supposed to be over by now, you texted him with a pleading face emoji to come over and take care of you. He only replies with his emoji face, so you’d like to assume that meant yes since no reply would mean he’s ignoring you. He’s the only person you wanted to see. Your boyfriend had a way of making you happy even when you felt like your world was in pieces, and it’s effortless on his side. You’re nervous to discover what effort from him to make you feel better would look like. 

“[Name], I’m here, what’s the matter?” His voice called out with vague concern etching into it. 

A smile graced your lips and weakly you cleared your throat, pushing yourself up on your elbows to see through the crack of the master bedroom door.

“I’m in the bedroom,” your hoarse voice called out as loud as you could, laying back only when you made sure he’s coming to the room. 

“My love,” he started until he got closer to peer over your face. The golden eyes above yours narrowed in their gaze before an amused, smug smile took shape over the previous concern. 

“Wow, you look awful,” Hisoka stated, making you frown instantly while rolling your eyes. 

“Thank you, if I wanted to hear that I’d go look in a mirror and say it myself,” you muttered out with a huff, closing your eyes to hear his chuckle next to your ear. 

“Do you mean to tell me you haven’t? It’s an honor to do it for you then,” he mumbled, kissing behind the shell of your ear. 

You opened your eyes to turn your head and glare at his crouched figure beside you. Your noses could touch if he scooted forward a little more. This backfired against you more than anything since Hisoka looks good. His hair is down, face bare of paint, arms in a sleeveless shirt to show off his muscles. He could tell you were checking him out based on the way a smirk grew. He stood up from his crouched position, sitting down on the bed. 

“So, what do you want me to do here?” He asked bluntly, making you blink dumbfounded up at him. 

“You’re joking, right?” Your tone comes out in confusion more than the playful mean way you intended. 

Hisoka shook his head, looking down at you. You couldn’t tell if he’s an exceptional liar, or he genuinely meant that he did not understand how to take care of you. Everyone gets sick, Hisoka had to have gotten sick at some point. There’s no way he’s never been sick. Maybe there’s been no one there to take care of him, or he’s someone who waits out the sickness rather than tries to treat it. 

“Um, could you make me some soup, maybe?” You ask politely, tipping your head back to get a better look at his face.

“Soup?” Hisoka mirrored your tone, watching you nod.

“Yes, if you go in the kitchen, there’s chicken broth already made with chicken bits in it. I just need you to boil noodles and heat the broth,” you mumble, sitting up and shrugging out the surrounding blanket. 

Hisoka wordlessly got up from the bed and made his way out of the room. You felt yourself sag your shoulders in relief. You were avoiding making that soup all day since getting out of bed earlier just to use the bathroom was exhausting. You’re about to relax when you hear Hisoka calling out to you. 

“Love?” 

“Yes?” You called back hoarsely. 

“Where is the pot?” He asked, and you felt your eyebrows furrow. 

He’s been your boyfriend now for six months, he’s had to have paid attention to where things are in your apartment. You cook pasta for him all the time, and he’s always in the kitchen to keep you company, which comes across as annoying you until you throw an al dente noodle at his face. 

“It’s in the cabinet to the right of the stove,” you call back out with confusion in your tone once more. 

You could hear one too many cabinet doors opening and closing, followed by a brief sigh. 

“I can’t find it, could you come here and show me?” 

You blink a few times in thought about how he couldn’t understand those instructions but got out of the bed. Your body ached as you slowly pushed yourself to stand, making you whine out a little, but you managed. With a slow shuffle to the kitchen, you saw Hisoka standing at the wrong cabinet, looking inside of it. 

“I said the right one by the stove,” you manage out through a cough, watching him turn around to look at you. 

“I’m checking everywhere to be sure,” he mumbles a bit sheepishly. 

You hold on to the counter to help you bend down, opening the right cabinet by the stove to pull out the pot. Standing back up, you turn to see Hisoka’s beaming face as he takes the pot from you gratefully.

“Thank you, love. Here stay in the kitchen just in case I need something else. Wouldn’t want you moving around too much,” he quips while setting the pot on the stove. 

After preheating, he turns to you to grab you by the thighs and lift you up, setting you on the counter spot he usually sits at. You observe him as he grabs the pot and moves to the sink to fill it with water and sets it back on the burner. He’s supposed to salt the water, but you don’t want to nitpick him when he’s being kind enough to cook you a soup. Hisoka moves to the pantry next to you, grabbing the egg noodles, and opens them up. 

“Wait until the water is boiling to pour them in,” you direct him, watching him chuckle. 

“Sorry [Name], I guess I pay little attention when you cook for me,” he admits, leaving you to laugh a little. 

“It’s okay, you doing this for me now is enough.”

The silence is comfortable as you both watch the water. Once it gets to a boil, Hisoka pours half the bag into it, grabbing a stirrer to assist him. It’s nice to have Hisoka be so attentive to you the entire time, and you wonder how long he’ll continue to be. He usually is attentive but in his way where he riles you up, but this is nice, you enjoy this. 

“Is it done?” he asks, holding a noodle out of the water. 

You stare at the noodle, then flicker your gaze to him. It’s only been two minutes since Hisoka poured the pasta into the water. The noodle can’t possibly be done by now, but he’s looking at it with full seriousness, as if he’s thinking it’s cooked and soft. 

“No, you  _ just _ put it in the water,” your voice trails off as he puts the noodle back in the water after hearing you deny his question. 

You watch him blow off the foam accordingly and stir the pasta for another three minutes to pull out another one, this time blowing on it and holding it to your mouth. 

“Tell me if it’s done,” he requests, and you know it’s not cooked. 

Pasta usually takes eight to 12 minutes to cook, and it’s only been around five or six. You didn’t have the heart to tell him no, so you took the noodle into your mouth. It was a hard chew, but you shook your head to answer him. You took a few moments to get the undercooked pasta bits off your teeth before speaking.

“Give it about three more minutes and then you try it,” you offered, watching him nod with a faint smile. 

Hisoka is hard for you to read but you could have sworn that his slight smile is one of amusement but you didn’t know for sure. It could be a genuine one of following your direction. You kept your mouth shut at him making this harder than necessary for fun.

Hisoka followed instructions, waiting three minutes, and trying the noodle to see his face light up. They must have been soft. You sighed out in relief. You’re so hungry, and this felt like it was taking longer than it needed to be. You watch him struggle to find the strainer and you sigh, lowering yourself from the counter to go into another cabinet to pull out the strainer. 

“Ah, thank you,” he mumbled as he took it, setting it in the sink and grabbed the pot handles to pour the noodles into the strainer. 

You climbed your way back on the counter, ignoring the way your body was begging you to just sit still. Once you got on the counter you shivered a little, head resting against a cabinet. Hisoka’s standing at the fridge. The broth should be right in front of his face in a Tupperware. He shouldn’t need you to find it, but sure enough, he proves you wrong. 

“[Name], I can’t find it,” he mumbles, peeking at you from the fridge door. 

You’re frustrated now. You’re hungry, you don’t feel good, and now you’re babysitting your boyfriend who you originally asked to come over to take care of you. With a defeated sigh, you waved him off and slid off the counter once more with a few staggered coughs. 

“Go, I’ll finish it,” you muttered, gently pushing aside his tall figure. 

“If you insist,” he mumbled through a smile.

His hand slides over your bare waist. It paused there, squeezing your waist as you grabbed the Tupperware. His thumb brushed along your skin as if he were feeling how cold you are, but said nothing as his hand retracted. Hisoka’s footsteps faded away towards the bedroom, but you didn’t pay much attention. You just wanted to finish your lunch.

Making your soup went by a lot faster than it did when you monitored Hisoka, and finally, you were ready to eat. You carried your soup to the dining room table when you felt a warm hand press against the small of your back after you set it down.

“I’ll carry the soup, come into the bedroom,” he mumbled, picking up the bowl of soup after taking your mitts from you. 

You smiled faintly, following behind Hisoka to see a tray set up on the neatly made bed for you. You crawled in as he waited patiently, and once you were comfortable, he sat the soup down. 

“Eat, I’ll be back,” he spoke through a faint smile. 

You took your time eating the soup, the hot liquid soothing your throat, and making your sinuses clean up a little. By the end of your meal, you could taste the oregano in the broth and felt a little better.

Hisoka came back into the room with a steaming mug, exchanging out the bowl on the tray for it. You looked down into the mug to see a light brown color, making your eyebrows furrow. You don’t recall asking him to make you tea, but what shocks you more is he made it without asking you a single question. You press the rim to your lips and drink a few gulps, vaguely tasting the honey he spooled into it for you. Honey in your tea is your favorite. It makes you smile that he remembered. 

You finished the tea and set the mug aside, watching Hisoka come back into the bedroom after washing your dishes. Before he could take your mug your hand wrapped around his wrist to capture his attention. 

“Lay down with me?” You asked shyly, watching him nod with a smile.

“I was wondering when you’d ask me that,” he mumbled, lying down beside you. 

His arm pulled you into his chest, warmer than any blanket could provide. Your fingers clumsily found Hisoka’s hair, running your fingers through the soft strands. You’ve mentioned to him before he should leave his hair down more often, but he insists he looks better when he leaves it up. You think he looks good either way, you just prefer toying with his hair. 

“Did you add a tablespoon of water when you heated your broth?” He asks, mumbling softly into your ear. 

You nod, leaving a faint kiss to his shoulder as you relaxed at his fingertips tracing circles into your thigh. It took you a few moments to realize his question, making your eyes shoot open as realization dawned on you. 

“You knew how to find and make everything the entire time, that’s why the tea was spot on,” you grumbled, glaring at him. 

Hisoka looked down at you with a smug smile taking shape, his fingertip lifting your chin to have his eyes meet yours. 

“I did,” he mumbled, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You rolled your eyes but pressed your face back into his chest, kissing it faintly. Maybe next time you get sick you won’t depend on him solely to take care of you. You’d only ask him for a cup of tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Requests are open at https://gurensichinose.tumblr.com/ if you'd like to request!


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